#steddie is life

[followthefae]

I read a fanfiction where Steve fills in for Gareth in the band and I just couldn’t stop thinking about Steddie making music together, so I thought I’d share 🙈

[elidoesntbreathwee]

Hello. This is my favorite image of Steve and Eddie.

it's them shut up

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

This is a drabble from a story that I think I might want to flesh out into more. I have an idea where I could take it. I always really enjoy when stories give bits of the older characters still in high school. Seeing the dynamics play out before they became our beloved fruity four.  I’m open to any constructive criticism or suggestions anyone is willing to offer.    It was a stupid wish, something so cliché and absurd that she couldn’t even believe it had crossed her mind. There would be no reality with it being true. No one could hear the thoughts spiraling through her mind. Still she continued to kick herself for it. How much easier life would be if she could have just been a boy. What would she be like? Would the lack of experiences she’d had as a woman change her? Morphing her into an almost unrecognizable form. Would she be just like Steve Harrington? A boy who in the eyes of the people of Hawkins could do no wrong. Praised for his mistakes, rewarded for anything that could be argued provided growth to his person. No one seemed immune to his charms. Age was just a number. Sexuality didn’t seem to exist. It was entirely frustrating. An airheaded pretty boy with the world at his fingertips, capable of stranger things than anyone might ever believe. What gave him such power? How did he do it? Command enough favor to leave even the brightest, most bold and independent women swooning. This had nothing to do with her crush on Nancy Wheeler. Crush? Wait no… No, she had no crush on the Queen of Hawkins herself. Robin understood her place in the world, a wallflower that offered the illusion of people. A supposed faithful servant to those who ran the town. Nancy Wheeler. She sat only a space over from Robin in their English class, close enough that Robin could smell her perfume. Warm vanilla. Not the cheap vanilla that Robin could grab a bottle of at Melvalds. - No matter how she knew that information or that she knew Nancy’s signature scent was one of Coco Mademoiselle from the Chanel counter.- She definitely hadn’t considered spending the outrageous price tag on the bottle just so she could drown herself in it at home. So all of this might have been because she liked ms. unattainable. There was no point in admitting it to herself. Nancy was happily making heart eyes at the jerk, Steve, the happy couple going on a year at the end of the month. It was wrong to be so jealous. Not only did she have no shot in hell, but Steve actually seemed to make an effort for his and Nancy’s relationship. There were rumors that he was going to decorate the halls for their big day. Recruiting the art hall to create the decorations that would be hung to broadcast their year together. She was surprised he hadn’t come to recruit the band to play songs to serenade her highness as she graced the hallway Friday morning. Steve had been making his rounds through the school to set up his plans. She swears she even saw him talking to Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson the other day. If involved him, it must have been huge. The King dawning the door of the theater closet where Hellfire was held. Practically unheard of. Eddie had a thing for Steve almost as bad as she had it for Nancy. The two of them never properly spoke, Robin and Eddie, but she could just tell by the way Eddie looked at him. Eddie only dealt with the likes of Tommy Hagan and the rest of Steve’s friends, supplying the goods for their parties, because it earned him the presence of Steve. That cursed Harrington charm… Why couldn’t she just have a little piece of that? Robin loved being a girl for everything except it being the key piece that ensured she’d remain single forever. Girls loving other girls just wasn’t allowed in this holier than thou town. She’d be the town pariah for something she couldn’t control. Cast out to be ridiculed and harassed, disowned from her parents. Wishing she was straight… that she liked men instead of women. It gave her a sour taste in her mouth. Who she was interested in wasn’t the issue. She felt no shame in her sexuality. Sometimes she just wondered how much easier her life would be as a male. Robin knew she wasn���t the problem, but changing herself still felt easier than changing the minds of those around her. She just wanted a chance to live to the fullest extent, and just not feel like she was supposed to be hiding.

[leeloooonfire]

Here we go again, some Steddie idea for the void:

He is still not quite sure how he managed to solve that mathematical problem, but sure, working for the NASA sounds like fun!

Eddie... he's not stupid. It's just that school doesn't keep him occupied, doesn't spark a tiny bit of interest.

It's not that he's a really bad student either. It's just that O'Donnell hates him and Shakespeare outside of funny DnD sessions bores him to death.

But he's not stupid... (That's what Wayne always says).

There's music and mathematics, physics and chemistry that really gets him going. Numbers are cool. Astrology and space and all that shit really fascinates him.

Oh, and History can be fun (though it is pretty whitewashed and makes him want to claw his eyes out on a regular basis).

After Chrissy and the whole thing with the Upside Down, there's little to no motivation to pull through his graduation, but he does and somehow manages it with somewhat decent grades. Not good enough to do anything interesting, sure, but not so bad for Uncle Wayne to be embarrassed about it. (Not that good ol' Wayne would care - as long as his boy is alive and healthy).

So, Eddie's not stupid, but he's definitely not one for an academic career. It's just that he was at the right?wrong? Time in the right/wrong place and managed to see a tiny mistake in this random dude's papers about astrophysics.

It's not that he knows shit about it, really, it just makes sense. Logical, so to speak. He'd read an article about the topic just recently for a DnD campaign. It had never been his intention to...you know...impress with his half-hearted knowledge.

But fuck, now there are people from NASA and co calling his uncle's house and begging him to work for them, even wanting to pay for his higher education.

While it sounds cool, sure, Eddie just knows that he will never get accepted into those colleges with his grades. He knows he probably has to do some admission tests to show how smart he is. And it's just not his thing...almost like school all over again. So, he wants to drop it and act like there have never been ten calls by the SETI Institute.

Until Wayne tells Robin, who tells Nancy, who tells Mike who tells Will and El who tells Red who tells Lucas and Erica who tell Dustin who tells fucking Steve the Hair Harrington....

Who then stands on Eddie's meager door step with five bags full of books about stuff (Mathematics, Physics, Astrophysics, Einstein and Gross, Schrödinger, Fermi) and a hand-drawn timetable made by Nancy.

And for the very first time, there are people believing in him and his abilities, people just knowing that, if he wants it enough, he'd be able to reach any goal.

The thing is: how is he supposed to concentrate on all that when there is Steve with his kind eyes and sparky humour and cute lips and broad shoulders?! How?!

[morganbritton132]

When Steve and Eddie announce to The Party that they’re dating, Hopper is surprisingly more chill than anybody expected him to be. He actually is thrilled about it because Eddie Munson is a menace to society at large and a major annoyance to Hopper specifically. He thinks that Steve will even him out.

And he is wrong!

Turns out the only reason that Hopper thought Steve had matured was because he only ever saw him when the world was ending. Compared to Mike, Dustin, and the suicide mission the kids were always trying to go on, Steve looked like a saint.

Now he’s sitting in his truck, watching out the window as Steve and Eddie throw rocks through the windows of an abandoned house and remembering just how many times he broke up parties at this kid’s house.

[shushmal]

okay but a like post-series fic i want that's like: steve harrington being the only man left in hawkins fighting monsters

and not like a 'everyone died, last man standing' way but just. they beat it back, the story ends, nice little tie-up and neatly concluded, eleven loses her powers because their world is completely cut from the other. and life goes on. eddie (yes, eddie lives au don't fight me) goes off with his band, robin-nancy-jargyle off to separate cities for college. the kids go to high school, graduate high school, and scatter across the country. joyce and hop buy a beach house far-far-far away from goddamn hawkins indiana.

steve though. steve stays. he does it too without comment, takes all their calls telling him all these amazing things. the years pass. the calls are fewer and far between. he's mostly in contact with only dustin and robin. except robin's out of country doing some crazy temp job in some remote country, she never catches him at home right now so just leaves him messages. and it takes a couple of weeks for dustin to realize he hasn't gotten steve on the phone.

frantically he calls around "have you heard from steve???" except the most people talk to steve anymore is like phone calls during holidays and holy shit what could have happened??

and what if it's back?

cue everyone who can in that moment, rushing back. eddie hopping on a flight from fucking london direct to indianapolis somehow, heart in his throat. he manages to meet hopper in the airport and they pick up max and dustin at the bus station.

they get to hawkins that is even more different that what they left. a smaller town, a town that shuts down completely when the sun sets. it's creepy and deserted.

except for the fucking upside down monsters of course.

and they're in their stupid little rental in front of this demogorgon and they're screaming but then the thing just goes splat on the concrete and steve fucking harrington is blinking owlishly at them.

"Oh, hey guys!" he calls jogging up to the driver's side window. "Wow, what brought you back down this way? You should have told me, I would have told you about the curfew!"

turns out steve just forgot to pay his phone bill that month, didn't even realize he was missing calls and he's been fighting monsters the entire time because actually they WEREN'T cut off from the upside down at all and he's just been casually fighting monsters for the remaining hawkins residence—the whole town knows now and steve's the guy you call when you have a monster problem

sidebar: WAYNE still lives in hawkins, and he and steve are best friends, eddie munson you are gonna LOSE YOUR MIND

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

[lilpomelito]

In a series of events that absolutely nobody could have predicted, Steve’s parents adore Eddie. Richard thinks he’s witty and sharp, a breath of fresh air for a man stuck in endless meetings with corporate egos. Linda laughed so hard the first time they invited him to dinner, she cried. Nobody is more surprised than Steve, who brought his alternative high school dropout boyfriend to his parents almost as an act of late teenage rebellion. But hilariously, Eddie’s fun personality and his disdain for everything mainstream makes him catnip for rich pretentious people. They bond over their hatred of the idiosyncrasy of middle class small town people in America, everyone is so closed minded and average, you know? No ambition, nothing! And this guy is a rockstar, Steve!, they say. You could use some of that ambition yourself! Have some goals in life!

It’s almost insulting. Like that’s his boyfriend. They can’t like him more than he does!! But Steve even caught his mom smoking pot with Eddie in the porch after dinner one time, which was insane to him since the last time they caught him doing exactly that Steve had been grounded for a week. You were 16 Steve, and a star athlete, we couldn’t have you smoking in the house, she argued. And Eddie, the treacherous man that he was, agreed with her. How would you feel if Dustin started smoking, huh?

In retrospective, Steve should have seen this coming. His parents hate Hawkins people as much as Eddie does, they do everything in their power to be away from town as much as it’s physically possible without actually moving away. They’ve had the “moving to another state” conversation several times already, and it’s been Steve who refused every time. The entire fight about Steve not getting into any college had been more about having to stay in Hawkins than anything else. But of course, his boyfriend who is literally everything this town hates in a person would be exactly what his parents like. No bond is stronger than the one between people who hate the same things.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)��

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[artiststarme]

One day the kids wake up and they can’t find Steve. They search his house, the school track, the basketball courts, anywhere they can think of where they might find him and he’s nowhere to be found. When they go to Robin’s house, she’s missing too. Her parents haven’t seen her since she disgraced their family by proclaiming herself to be a lesbian.

Even Eddie hasn’t seen either of them and that’s particularly worrying since the three of them are always together.

Both Steve and Robin come back two weeks later with sunburns and matching tattoos on their wrists. They had been at one of the Harrington vacation homes in Florida getting drunk, checking out girls, and getting tattoos. It’s also when Steve realized he was interested in Eddie and plants a smooch on him as soon as he gets back to see Eddie checking out his ass.

[elidoesntbreathwee]

i have now experienced the common writer's thingy were i had an awesome idea, i didnt write it down, and now ive forgotten

I crie

it woulda been the greatest lil steddie thought on my blog page thingy

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

steve “cant get out of bed till middle of the day, barely leaves his house or is never home, isolating himself from everyone, never takes time for himself anymore, depressed and is slowly losing more and more of himself every single day” harrington post 1986’

robin “i know you loved her, and it must’ve killed that she wouldn’t take you back, but nancy is happy steve and she still loves you. she’s not the only one out there for you, and you’ve gotta get over it. we miss you” buckley post 1986’, trying to help her best friend

steve “…this isn’t about nancy” harrington.

robin “wha-?… oh. oh steve.” buckley.

he still wears the vest.

[2jihiir0]

what if Eddie had found them in the bathroom instead … 🍨🚽🌀♡ ̆̈

[laundrybiscuits]

The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”

Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”

The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner. 

“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”

“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”

Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?

He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” 

“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”

“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt. 

He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”

“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”

“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip. 

“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”

Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”

“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”

“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”

“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”

“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.” 

“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel. 

There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”

“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know. 

He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.

(ETA: small continuation here!)

[eddieintheupsidedown]

Steve: *texting Robin* Hey, I just walked into this party and someone yelled dibs lol

*meanwhile*

Eddie: *texting Robin* ROBIN HELP I FUCKED UP. SOME HOT GUY WALKED INTO THE PARTY AND I YELLED DIBS